


Serendipity

by TenMoreSins



Series: MCU Prompts and Shorts [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Peter parker is an adult, Quentin Beck is not a Bad Guy, You Will Never Get This Much Purity Out Of Me Ever Again, You might get cavities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22625629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenMoreSins/pseuds/TenMoreSins
Summary: Maybe standing around in the cold for hours on end waiting for the ball drop in Time's Square wasn't one of Peter Parker's better ideas.But maybe...Justmaybe...It really was.
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Series: MCU Prompts and Shorts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1539268
Comments: 10
Kudos: 56





	Serendipity

Okay. So maybe standing around in Times Square for twelve hours packed tight among a whole bunch of tourists and a good number of die hard New Year’s obsessed locals wasn’t Peter Parker’s best idea. There wasn’t really any going back now, though, because he’d gotten here plenty early enough to get a good spot for the ball drop, which placed him in not just a coveted location but one he wasn’t likely to be able to get out of until the crowds dispersed after the countdown.

At least it wasn’t too cold, and the constant press of bodies only warmed the air further, even though Peter could still feel the brisk wind through his worn sneakers and threadbare jeans. The worst part about waiting around wasn’t even not being able to get food (he’d scarfed down a huge sandwich before he’d gotten in line), nor was it the inability to go to the bathroom.

The worst part about waiting around for twelve hours was that he _couldn’t really move_.

It wasn’t as if he was claustrophobic or anything, but he was used to being on the move, even in his own apartment. Peter hardly ever sat still for very long, it just wasn’t in his nature, and by hour three he was losing his damn mind. Maybe he should leave, give up on this stupid “bucket list item” and go find a bar later on in the night for the free champagne toast. The entertainment was set to start up soon, but he really didn’t know if he could stand this much longer.

Chewing on his lip, he pulled out his phone, groaning inwardly at the time and shifting from foot to foot as his fingers flew over the screen.

_this would be way better if u guys had come too < arachnophile _

_i’m so bored :( < arachnophile _

_deathstarlord > u kno I hate to tell u I told u so _

_deathstarlord > but I totally told u so dude _

_morbidcuriosity > He’s right you know. You’re just perpetuating capitalism. _

_MJ, it’s free to get in < arachnophile _

_morbidcuriosity > You can’t see it, but I’m giving you that look. You know the one. _

_c’mon, man < arachnophile _

_deathstarlord > just ditch, there’s still time for a movie marathon b4 the countdown _

_Idk maybe, ttyl gotta save battery < arachnophile _

Sighing, Peter slipped his phone back in his pocket, rubbing his hands together. Why hadn’t he brought gloves? His friends were right, as usual. What was really so great about standing around in the cold for hours to see something that would be broadcast live on every news channel and website, simulcast around the globe, livestreamed by thousands of vloggers and shared on millions of social media feeds? Well, maybe that was it, he thought, breathing some warmth back into his fingers while he tried to drone out the constant buzz of the crowds and the distant woop of sirens interspersed with the occasional car horn.

Maybe it was about actually experiencing something for once.

Ten more minutes and two elbows to the ribs later and he was already calling bullshit on that notion, berating himself for his life choices and getting ready to bolt as soon as he could squeeze through some minuscule opening in the crowds. As luck would have it, however, he ended up getting jostled again right as he was going to unlock his phone, sending the device skidding on the pavement with a gut wrenching sound.

 _Oh god nononono_.

Being small and lithe (and ultimately strapped for cash on a good day), Peter all but dove for the phone immediately, wriggling his way through a sea of legs that paid him no more heed than the rest of the city ever did.

“Excuse me, sorry, hey, my phone, I dropped my phone could you- OW- please don’t step on- hey- oh _come on!_ ”

He groaned as someone shuffled their feet, sending his phone skidding off to collide with someone else’s boot, knowing he was going to have his share of bruises come tomorrow from all the hip bones and knees he was shoving through. It didn’t matter, though, he had to get that phone, there was no way he could afford a new one and wouldn’t that just be the best way to start the year? He was so completely focused on getting it back that he wasn’t quite able to draw up short when suddenly a figure bent down right in front of him.

_Shit!_

It was too late, the apologies already spilling out of him even as his head was spinning from the impact (oh god had he actually knocked heads with this person??) and he felt a firm grip on his bicep.

“-okay?”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t- god I’m sorry- wait what?” Peter cut himself off, only just realizing that the hand on his arm hadn’t left and the voice right in front of him didn’t sound _angry_ but... _concerned_?

“I said it’s fine, are you okay?”

When he finally steadied himself, gaze shooting up to answer, his words caught in his throat, coming out in some sort of incredibly embarrassing little garble because _holy shit_. He knew he was making a fool of himself, standing there staring straight into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, jaw slack as he watched thick eyebrows turn upward with worry and more than a little amusement.

“ _Y-yeah ‘m’good-_ ” came out horrifically high pitched, and Peter had to swallow a few times as the hand on his arm suddenly felt like it was searing straight through his scratchy sweater and threadbare coat. In fact it kind of felt like his entire body was way too warm to be packed this close to a bunch of people even in the cold. 

This guy was grade-A _hot_.

He cleared his throat, as if that might make up for the unattractive squeak he’d just made and the fact that he’d been staring for... how long had he been staring? _Oh god_. The stranger still hadn’t let go of his arm, and it was then that he realized his phone was being held out to him. Oh right, his phone. He really hoped that the flush he felt rising quickly to his cheeks would be attributed to the temperature and the fact that he’d just been wildly scrambling through the crowd to retrieve the device he so elegantly took back. The little tingle he felt when their fingers brushed during the exchange was probably his first clue that it had been a little too long since he got laid.

_You’re not actually a teenager anymore, Parker, stop reacting like one._

“I uh... um. Th-thank you,” Peter stammered, cursing inwardly but trying to put on a smile that wasn’t 100% awkward. _Or creepy_. Even if he was starting to think maybe he could stand to hang around until the ball drop after all, if he didn’t make a total idiot of himself before then.

“I like to think that not everyone in this tourist trap is so self absorbed they don’t help somebody out who obviously needs it,” the stranger intoned, and really, Peter could’ve melted at that slightly off kilter smile, sardonic and only adding to what was apparently a little good-hearted disdain for the tradition they were both in the middle of. The hand fell away from his bicep and he immediately felt colder, wetting his chapped lips and trying not to be so damn obvious.

It wasn’t his fault that this guy was shaping up to be entirely his type. Tall, broad, strength in his grip, neatly trimmed facial hair, _suave_ with slicked back hair that still looked soft to touch. He was wearing a turtleneck sweater underneath a casual jacket, and Peter had never seen anybody pull off that shade of green so _incredibly_ -

Right, he was supposed to reply to that wasn’t he?

“R-right? Yeah, I mean imagine if it was one of their phones, huh?” Peter didn’t exactly miss the casual once over he got, feeling his ears burn at the image he knew he presented. Compared to what was probably cashmere this guy was wearing, his entire outfit probably cost less than just that turtleneck. _When it had been new_. His eyes dropped to his phone, then, and his shoulders slumped, expression crestfallen. The screen was spiderwebbed with cracks, again. He’d just gotten it fixed for Christmas, oh, May was going to be so upset...

“Hey, if you’re going to be in town for a while, I know a guy who could fix that,” the stranger’s voice snapped Peter out of his thoughts, his fingers tightening their grip on his poor phone. It took a minute of just staring again, brows knit in confusion, for him to process that it was an actual offer. “If you wanted, that is.”

“Oh- Nono I mean yeah I’ll be in town, I live here, just- you don’t- it’s fine, I mean thanks, thank you, but I couldn’t ask something like that. It’s really generous, really, but I’ll figure it out,” he rambled, eyes darting away and using the flimsy excuse of checking to see if the phone actually still worked to divert his attention from the attractive face less than two feet in front of him. “Ah, yeah, see, it still works, so I mean it’s cool, you don’t have to go out of your way or anything, it happens.”

“You aren’t asking, I’m offering,” came the smooth reply, and Peter felt his face heat up further, his stomach doing a funny little flip. “Besides, that guy is me, and it’s really no trouble because I actually enjoy tinkering with things. So... in a way you’d really be the one doing me the favor of letting me fix it. Call it the good Samaritan discount, no charge.”

“I- um...” _You can tinker with me if you want_ , Peter’s mind helpfully supplied as he did his best impression of a fish, mouth opening and closing and failing to actually form any more words, which was surely doing wonders for whatever this guy thought of him. He was doing it again, wasn’t he, oh God, this was absolutely why it had been so long since he’d gotten laid. He was _awkward_. Lucky for him, the ridiculously handsome stranger was taking it all in stride, smile a little too knowing as he turned to give Peter a little bit of a reprieve, gaze tilting up to where the ball was going to drop later. It gave him a fantastic view of the entire line of the man’s throat, however, which was doing nothing for how hot his cheeks were feeling.

“So you said you lived in the city, which means you already knew what you were in for coming here. You just really into rowdy mosh pits full of tourists?” came across casual, curious from the taller man, hands tucked into his coat pockets. He was the picture of New York stylish, like one of those people you’d see on People Magazine, looking like he’d be more at home in a penthouse than on the street.

“Well, yeah, I mean I know- I knew- but it seemed stupid to live here my whole life and never see it, you know?” It sounded lame even to his own ears.

“Most people don’t come alone to these kinds of things.” The stranger glanced sidelong at him, and Peter nearly dropped his phone again just getting it back into his pocket. Was he getting at something?

“And what’s that say about you, then?” he countered, before he could even think about it, horror dawning on him as soon as the words were out. He opened his mouth to backpedal in spectacular Peter Parker fashion, but before he could say a thing, the man _laughed_. 

He genuinely _laughed_. 

It wasn’t one of those cruel, condescending laughs, one of the ones that say _aw, you’re cute but no_. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. The gorgeous man standing in front of Peter just _laughed_ like it was the most hilarious thing he’d heard all day, a rich, full sound, unmistakably amused. His smile was absolutely brilliant, eyes crinkling at the corners and- Jesus, was he wiping away a _tear_?

“Um...”

“Sorry! Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that from mister _you don’t have to go out of your way or anything_.” Again, they were facing each other, and Peter wanted to blame his indignant flush on the cold but he was pretty sure he wasn’t fooling anybody. “I had a date,” the man clarified, expression frustratingly, unreadably neutral. “He ditched me.”

Now, there were several things that Peter could take from that information right up front, but two things stood out above all the rest. One, _“he”_. Crazy attractive stranger paying attention to him somehow happened to also be into dudes. Two, _the guy looked about the opposite of upset about being ditched_.

“He must’ve been a real idiot then,” he commented, trying to shove his hands deeper into his pockets for how blatant that was. For a moment, the two of them just stood there, jostled lightly by the crowds milling around the square, neither acknowledging the chemistry before Peter finally broke the brief, awkward silence by clearing his throat.

“So... you’re a techie, huh? Cause if you’re just some IT guy trying to impress me by claiming you can reverse engineer a Stark phone you’re outta luck,” he ventured, trying to put on a casual sort of air. Rocking back a little on his heels, he couldn’t help the grin that started to form as the man’s thick eyebrows rose questioningly. “I already did that back in highschool,” he explained nonchalantly, as if some nobody could do it in their garage at 16 with parts he found in the alley behind a Radio Shack, and the glint in blue eyes and the half cocked grin he got in response were really just the beginning of the next six hours.

* * *

For all the entertainment, the music, the lights, the noise, the only thing that snapped their attention away from their conversation was the start of the countdown. Between the in depth explanations of bleeding edge VR and holotech and Peter’s interjections about the functional requirements of a rig that could support that kind of a system, the time just flew by, each of them coming alive and animated about their passions and expertise. And then it was happening, all gazes turned skyward to ring in the New Year, and Peter finally remembered what he’d thought earlier in the day.

Sometimes it was about actually experiencing something.

The energy in the air was palpable, the entire square joined in a deafening chorus that rose to a crescendo that might’ve given Peter a hell of a headache if he hadn’t already been inundated with sound as the night had worn on. The energy exploded, the lights shone, tons of confetti filled the air, somewhere amid the chaos he heard Auld Lang Syne and suddenly there were lips on his, chaste but firm.

He froze, heart hammering in his chest.

Blue, blue eyes searched his face as the warmth pulled away, fingertips grazing his cheekbones as broad hands similarly retreated. “I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t be,” Peter breathed out, and pulled him back in by the lapels of that stupid coat that probably cost more than a month’s worth of home cooked meals for him and May. He felt the searing heat of a tongue slide across the seam of his lips this time, and he gave it an all access pass, pushing his own against it as his grip tightened in the expensive material and he felt fingers dive into his hair. He moaned into the space between them and they parted gasping, Peter’s head spinning and pulse rabbiting as all he could manage was, “ _Wow._ ”

“Quentin Beck,” the man supplied, voice a little rough, and it took him a moment to wrap his head around the fact that they hadn’t even introduced themselves the entire time.

“Peter Parker,” he answered, breathy and a little dumbstruck. He still hadn’t let go of Quentin’s coat, and Quentin’s thumbs were very, very distracting where they rubbed small circles just below his temples.

“You wanna get out of here?” Quentin asked, and Peter was nodding before his mouth could even catch up to the rest of him.

“Oh hell yes.”

* * *

“Do you believe in fate, Peter?” Quentin asked, and God but he was lost in the man’s eyes, even here where the lights were dimmer and the noise of the city far away. Here where he was being lulled to sleep by strong but gentle fingers tracing idle patterns along his bare skin, three glasses of champagne, and a whole lot of physical exertion.

“No,” he answered truthfully, confused by the question but letting himself be drawn back in, tucked up easily against the larger man’s broad chest. Somewhere down the street people were still setting off fireworks even though it was well past one in the morning.

“Good,” Quentin said, and Peter shifted to look up at him once more, raising an eyebrow in question. “Neither do I,” he continued, simply smiling that almost enigmatic smile of his.

“I do believe in serendipity, though.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to join me on Discord! I'm part of a [Spiderio server](https://discord.gg/FumvCxwsKy) (but other ships are also welcome)! I like sharing sneak peaks sometimes.


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